Desar's Tale
by UnarmedBystander
Summary: A young man suffers a personal tragedy, and sets out on a path of vengeance, but finds something much more meaningful. Work In Progress


_He sighed._

The sun shone upon a young man, sitting on a stool behind a small shop in Lakeshire, polishing a pair of boots. They were a dark brown color, and very well made, for they were the finest work the young man's father had ever produced. They had been finished earlier this morning, and the boy was finishing up the polish for when their new owner would pick them up later today.

The man's name was Desar Midlam, and he was 17 years old, even though he hardly looked it. He brushed back an unruly lock of dark-blonde hair that had fallen into his eyes, and remembering that if he did not get his hair cut soon he was probably going to get a beating for looking unkempt.

He was a slightly built boy, but well muscled from the work he did. He carried leathers and fabrics, and helped keep the shop in as good a condition as it could be, which wasnt saying much. He was dressed in the simple, light clothes born by a citydweller during summer, and a pair of sturdy black boots. At his belt hung a worn and notched knife in a leather sheath.

Looking down on the boots, Desar decided that they were as buffed as they were likely to get, gathered up the boots and his cloth, and walked into the shop. Inside, the sunlight shone in through the windows, and illuminated a well kept, neat little shop. In a corner, at his workbench, sat his father Joseph, cutting up leather for the afternoons work. He was a large man with thick arms and a bullneck, wearing the leather apron and workclothes of a cobbler. His voice sounded impatitent as he said:

- "So, have you finished polishing up those boots? You've been at it the whole morning, and the client will be here any minute. By the Light, i should kick you out and find me a decent apprentice. Your brother is a good for nothing, and you're useless at anything more difficult then wiping the floor."

- "Im sorry Sir, i just thought these deserved to look their best when the cl-"

- "Your job is to polish boots, not think. Now hand me those, and go buy some milk for lunch."

As he walked out to the street, Desar began thinking of how they had ended up in this place. Ten years ago the Midlam family had been living on a small but fruitful farm just outside of the town of Moonbrok, in the province of Westfall. Back then, his family had been hard-working, but satisfied, farmers, his father taking care of the fields and his mother caring for the animals. He could remember playing infront of the small house with his brother James, and exploring the countryside whenever he wanted. But that was before the Defias moved into Westfall.

Back then, not many people had heard of the Defias, or of their leader, and their intentions were not known to the common man. They came slowly, and quietly, but for those touched by them life would never be the same again.

----

It was a rainy evening in June, when the Defias first made their presence known to the Midlam family. The family was gathered in the house, relaxing after dinner, when a knock on the door was heard. It was not uncommon for the neighbours to come calling nights like these, to chat about the coming harvest and drink a mug of ale in pleasant company, but tonight the visitor was no neighbour. Joseph opened the door with a smile on his face and a friendly greeting on his tounge, when he noticed that the slightly built man outside was not one of his neighbours. The man bowed slightly, and introduced himself.

- "Good evening Sir. My name is Jervis Coal and i work for a small group of businessmen. They have an offer for you that i believe you will want to hear. Could we talk?"

Joseph waved the man inside, and into the lamplight a well dressed man in pristine black traveling clothes. He was obviously a city man, but outside a horse could be heard neighing softly. He was waved into Joseph's study and the door was closed behind him. After a few minutes raised voices could be heard, penetrating the thick oak door.

- "Fifty gold!? Do you think you're talking to a fool?! This farm has been in my family for three generations, and it's value is closer to two hundred gold then fifty! Get out of my house and do not come back!"

After these words the door to the study flew open, and Joseph Midlam strode out, in an obviously foul mood, and opened the front door. Behind him walked Jervis Coal, with an irritated scowl.

- "I must warn you, my employers need this plot of land for a reason, and they will do much to get it. You would do well to take the gold." he said.

- "Tell your employers i am not interested in selling my family lands, even if they were willing to pay a fair sum. Goodbye." Joseph said, and closed the door in the man's face.

Four hours later the smoke of fire could be smelled in the house, as the barn burned.

-----

Authors Notes:

Hello all, and thank you for reading my first serious attempt at a World of Warcraft fanfic. I am planning on writing this until its conclusion, but i would very much appreciate any comments or criticism you might have about my work. I am a new author, and any help would be appreciated highly. Thank you.

If you want to contact me, i can be found at captain.general AT


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